


Lionheart

by ShootingStar7123



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, Love Confessions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootingStar7123/pseuds/ShootingStar7123
Summary: Shepard’s crew knew that beneath her hardened exterior lay a tender heart. All she really wanted was to be loved, and to love in return. Garrus POV, Shepard/Garrus with mentions of Shepard/Kaidan.





	Lionheart

It didn’t take Garrus long to learn the rhythm of the Normandy. Human ship or no, it was still a military vessel. After spending years in the military prior to joining C-Sec, there was a comforting normalcy to it.

 

But the most puzzling rhythm to the Normandy was this: Every two weeks, like clockwork, they would dock at the Citadel for a full day cycle of shore leave. And each time, Commander Shepard would leave the ship that evening, often wearing a _dress,_ and come back late at night.

 

Not that Garrus was spying or anything. But he was a detective. It was in his nature to investigate mysteries.

 

He wasn’t exactly proud of himself when he _did_ resort to spying and followed her when she left the ship. He tailed her all the way to a fine-dining asari restaurant, where she met a man— _obviously a civilian_ , Garrus thought—who kissed her on the cheek and led her to a table for two.

 

_She has a boyfriend,_ was his first thought. And then, with mild amusement, _Alenko will be disappointed._

 

…

 

Two weeks later, Garrus had found his own date for the evening. It was a stressful mission, hunting Saren, and he was in need of some relief. An old acquaintance was staying on the Citadel, and she’d agreed to go out for drinks and more, no strings attached of course.

 

Garrus was surprised when he saw Shepard on the far side of the bar with a different man than during their previous shore leave. _No boyfriend after all,_ he realized. She was dating around. But these didn’t look like casual hook-ups to him. Not like his.

 

Shepard was looking for love.

 

…

 

This rhythm remained unchanged for a while, and Garrus continued to unfurl the mystery of Commander Shepard. She was a fascinating person.

 

Despite being an incredible force on the battlefield, she was the kindest person he’d ever known. She constantly checked in on her crew’s well-being and kept track of details about their lives and families. He watched her make soup when Ashley was sick. Watched her hold Liara as she cried over her mother. Watched her smiling shyly at Alenko’s overtures at romance, despite the Alliance regulations that prohibited them.

 

The ship had only a skeleton crew when shore leave was declared. Sometimes Garrus enjoyed staying on an empty Normandy, with no crewmen looking at him funny or like they were scared of him. It wasn’t that bad, not really, but sometimes he got tired of it.

 

He was surprised beyond belief to find that the mess wasn’t empty when he arrived. A figure stood in the kitchen, cooking. “Shepard!” he said in surprise. “No date tonight?”

 

She glanced over her shoulder at him before turning off the stove. “I guess it was too much to ask that my shore leave plans stay private,” she said wryly. “But no, no date this time.”

 

“I haven’t told anyone,” he offered.

 

She smiled a little, taking her food to the mess hall table. “I should have expected it,” she said, watching as he grabbed something for himself. “You are a detective after all.”

 

“I shouldn’t have snooped,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He sat down across from her.

 

“I don’t mind,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re a good enough friend to know. I have been dating. Looking for the right person to share my life with. Being in the military isn’t really conducive to romance.” She looked down, embarrassed.

 

“You’ll find someone who appreciates you,” he said, certain of it. And she would. She was both a fierce warrior and a caring friend. Women like her were rare.

 

“Not much luck so far,” she said with a shrug. “Most human men don’t want a woman stronger than them, and they don’t much like the idea of me being gone on tour for months either. Not that I wouldn’t be willing to find a groundside posting…” She sighed.

 

Garrus shrugged. “Have you tried human women?”

 

A small smile curved her lips. “I don’t have anything against dating a woman, but I’ve kind of always wanted to have a family the old-fashioned way.”

 

“Oh,” Garrus said, surprised, but he understood. It was much the same in turian society. Bloodlines were important—at least if you were from a traditional family like his—so most settled down with someone of the opposite sex. Casual liaisons were different.

 

“You’ll find the right person,” he said again. “There must be a human man out there somewhere who can appreciate you.”

 

She blushed a little. “Maybe I’ve found him.”

 

“Alenko?” he said, browplates raised, and she blushed further.

 

“It’s against regs,” she said. “He’d have to get a transfer and we’d hardly see each other.”

 

Garrus shrugged. “I always thought those particular regs were stupid anyways.”

 

She beamed at him.

 

…

 

It was after Virmire when he realized her kind heart was also a tender one, easily broken.

 

Garrus had seen Shepard and Kaidan go off in different directions after the debrief, both hurting in their own ways. Staring across the cargo bay at Ashley’s empty post, Garrus decided to seek Shepard out.

 

She could probably use a friend at a time like this. All of them could.

 

Alenko’s usual post, near Shepard’s quarters, was dark. Garrus hesitated a minute at her door, wondering if Kaidan had followed her in after all. But he didn’t hear talking, didn’t smell sex. He heard a faint sniffling sound and knew he had to go in.

 

He knocked on the metal door. “Shepard?” he called softly.

 

“Come in,” she replied, and he pressed the key to open the door.

 

“What do you need, Garrus?” she said, sitting on the end of her bed with swollen red eyes.

 

“I thought you might need a friend,” he said, feeling uncertain. “I can go if you want.”

 

The tears formed in her eyes again. “Oh, Garrus,” she said, her voice choked. “Ashley…” She began sobbing again in earnest.

 

Garrus could hardly stand the sound of it. He approached the bed, sat beside her, and put an arm around her shoulders. She responded by throwing herself into his arms, crying on the chestplate of his armor.

 

He stiffened at first in surprise, but then relaxed incrementally, rubbing her back and humming to soothe her.

 

“Her poor sisters,” Shepard sobbed. “How are they going to bear it?”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Garrus said.

 

“It is,” she replied, her tears coming slower now. “I had to choose. And I chose Kaidan.”

 

“How can I pursue him now?” she continued, looking sick to her stomach. “When I chose his life over hers?”

 

“That wasn’t your reason,” Garrus said with certainty.

 

“Kaidan had the salarians with him,” she said, confirming his belief. “I couldn’t sacrifice all those lives for Ashley. But my intent won’t matter. You know how it will look.”

 

“Screw what others think,” Garrus said forcefully. “They don’t get to dictate your happiness.”

 

She pulled back from him, giving him a sad smile. “If only I can look at him without seeing her face.”

 

Despite her doubts, everyone on the crew knew that Kaidan went into her quarters before Ilos and didn’t come out until they’d arrived.

 

…

 

“I’m going to miss you,” Shepard said, arms around Garrus’s neck.

 

“Are you still going to be making your Citadel stops every two weeks?” he asked, pulling back. “You know I’ll clear my schedule for you.”

 

She laughed. “You want to be my standing date, Vakarian?”

 

He chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t want to make Alenko jealous.”

 

She shrugged. “We’re kind of putting things on hold until he gets a transfer. He’s more of a stickler for regs than you,” she said, smiling wryly.

 

“Well, let me know when you’re on the Citadel, Shepard. I’ll buy you a drink.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, and he watched as she walked back to the Normandy.

 

…

 

Two years and a lifetime had passed.

 

The galaxy was a different place without her in it. Garrus knew it wouldn’t be long before he joined her. His only regret in dying now was that he couldn’t get the revenge his team deserved.

 

Until he saw her climbing over the barricade.

 

Two years hadn’t dimmed his memory of her one bit. He knew in an instant. He couldn’t say he understood the how or why of her appearing now, but it lit a spark inside him. He wasn’t ready to die anymore. Not while she was here.

 

When he saw her up close, it worried him. There were tears in her eyes and dark circles under them. He’d never seen such stark relief on her face than when he took off his helmet.

 

He didn’t have much time to worry before the rocket hit him.

 

…

 

He was disappointed not to find her waiting when he woke in the med bay.

 

“I made her leave,” Chakwas said when she noticed him looking for her. “Her worrying was a distraction, and she could use the rest.”

 

“How is she?” he asked. “Really.”

 

Chakwas sighed. “She’ll be better now that you’re here.”

 

When he found her in the conference room, her eyes lit up. “Garrus!” she said, moving towards him as if to hug him. She hesitated a moment, so he took the initiative and reached out for her. “You’re alright,” she said, face pressed against his armor. “I was so worried.”

 

Garrus ignored the man in the Cerberus uniform slipping out of the room. He only had eyes for Shepard. He wasn’t surprised to see her wiping at her eyes when she pulled back from his hug. Her kind heart wouldn’t take his injury easily.

 

“I’m ready for duty whenever you need me,” he said, trying to be strong for her.

 

“You’ll take whatever time you need to heal,” she countered. “And that’s an order!”

 

He smiled a little, careful of his damaged mandible. “Yes ma’am.”

 

He settled in slowly, obeyed her commands, and learned the rhythms of a different Normandy. They still stopped at the Citadel regularly, he noticed, but Shepard stayed in her cabin. There were no dresses or dates anymore.

 

…

 

Horizon was a disaster.

 

The mission itself went about as well as it could have, despite Shepard’s guilt at not saving everyone. But afterwards, when Alenko appeared, was when things spiraled out of control.

 

_Can’t you see she was worried about you?_ he wanted to scream. _Don’t you know she was looking for you all this time?_

 

Kaidan wouldn’t listen. He was deliberately cruel, cutting.

 

_Don’t you know this will break her heart?_

 

If Kaidan knew the first thing about Shepard he would know that much. Garrus was beginning to doubt Kaidan had ever truly known her. Had ever truly loved her.

 

As Garrus comforted her in her quarters, reminded so much of Virmire, he hated Kaidan for what he’d done. Shepard deserved better than this.

 

Garrus was beginning to realize he wanted to be the one to give it to her. He’d cared for her as a friend—as, perhaps, the best friend he’d ever had—before her death. But now he was beginning to feel things he hadn’t before. He’d once been indifferent to her strange human body. Now he wanted to touch it, to feel her soft, fragile skin under his hands. He relished holding her as she cried, and hated himself for it.

 

He wasn’t what she needed, no matter how much he wanted to be. So he began to distance himself. It was the only way.

 

And then he finally found a solid lead on Sidonis.

 

…

 

They fought afterwards.

 

He shouldn’t have been surprised she would stop him from killing Sidonis. She only killed when necessary. She was too noble, too kind, for something like revenge. And yet, he’d hoped she would trust him with this.

 

“Damn it, Garrus,” she was saying. Tears built in her eyes, but her expression was one of anger. “He wasn’t the one I was trying to save!”

 

Garrus stopped, staring at her. She took the opportunity to approach, close enough to touch. “I’ve been afraid all this time of losing you,” she said, softer now. “You haven’t been yourself. I need my Garrus back.”

 

“Maybe your Garrus is gone and I’m all that’s left,” he found himself saying. “Things changed while you were gone.”

 

“I’m sorry for what you suffered while I was dead,” she said, and he winced at the word even though she didn’t. “But I know my Garrus is still in there. There’s more to you than revenge and anger.”

 

She turned away, and he watched her go. Hurt and angry, he didn’t know if she was right.

 

…

 

She gave him space for a few days, let him come to terms with things. Even though he hadn’t gotten his revenge, Garrus felt a little more settled. Seeing Sidonis, knowing he felt regret and suffered for his actions… it helped. Killing him wouldn’t bring his team back. Nothing would do that. All that was left was to move on. Garrus relaxed a little, began talking to Shepard again.

 

And then, in response to one of his stories, she suggested they ‘blow off steam’ together. He knew it wasn’t her style. Shepard wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of woman. But every chance he gave her to change her mind, she only doubled down.

 

_“You’re the best friend I have left,”_ she said. _“I trust you,”_ she said.

 

_“I love you,”_ he wanted to say. But he didn’t. He would be what she needed for now. But he didn’t doubt that someday she’d want to settle down, seeking that normalcy he couldn’t give her.

 

The night before they passed through the Omega 4 relay, he approached her quarters with a bottle of wine and his battered heart, and she accepted both.

 

…

 

She’d resigned from Cerberus the most dramatic way possible—denying the Illusive Man the Collector base, the Normandy, and her crew in one blow. Garrus was glad to be shot of Cerberus, and even more glad to see Shepard had gained a crew so loyal that they’d leave with her. Not that it was a surprise. Given time, Shepard could win anyone over.

 

It wasn’t long afterwards that Admiral Hackett contacted her for a favor, one that could get her back into the Alliance. Garrus had his misgivings; she’d been asked to complete the mission alone. She didn’t want to hear his protests. She’d told Hackett she would, and she never went back on a promise.

 

Garrus spent two days pacing the main battery, scanning the comm frequencies, before the Normandy finally got a transmission from Shepard. He ran, not caring who saw, to meet her at the airlock.

 

The moment the decontamination sequence ended, he was through the doors and pulling her into his arms. But she clawed out of them, running to Joker. “We have to get out of the system!” she cried. “We have to go now.”

 

Joker did as she said, Shepard standing behind him and Garrus behind her. When they passed through the relay, it went dark a moment later—it had lost the connection to its mate.

 

“Shepard?” he asked.

 

When she slowly turned to look at him, he’d never seen her so devastated.

 

…

 

Hours after Admiral Hackett left, the two of them lay curled together on her bed in the captain’s cabin. He’d tried to talk her out of it. Tried to find an alternative. She didn’t want to hear them.

 

Hackett had ordered her to turn herself in, and she’d agreed all too easily. She wanted to go on trial for her crime. No matter how necessary her actions were—no matter how good her intentions—the guilt she carried wouldn’t be assuaged. 

 

So he held her as long as he could, trying to show her that it wasn’t her fault. That she was loved… though he couldn’t say the words.

 

All he could do was hold her.

 

…

 

Garrus followed Alliance news religiously when he was on Palaven. Those who knew thought him odd. He didn’t much care. If there was any information out there about Shepard, he wanted to know it.

 

Not that reading the news was all Garrus did. He did everything in his power—and some things that had once seemed out of his power—to prepare for the reapers as best he could. For the first time, Garrus thought his father might actually be proud of him. For the first time, Garrus wasn’t sure he cared. All he really wanted was for _Shepard_ to be proud of him.

 

Well, maybe not _all_. What he truly wanted most was her love, but he tried not to think about that, tried not to hope for it. He remembered that conversation on the first Normandy, about dating and what she wanted for her future. He couldn’t give her the future she wanted, but he’d give her everything he could. She needed someone to love her, to trust her, to have her back. He would never stop caring for her, no matter what the future held.

 

…

 

The reapers’ arrival threw everything into chaos. Nearly all comms were down. They barely had any information or news from outside the system. Garrus worried about Shepard, trapped on Earth. About his other friends, his old crewmates. He worried about the galaxy as a whole. This was just as bad as they had imagined. How could any of them hope to survive this?

 

He wondered how Shepard was holding up, seeing all this suffering. She was strong, he knew. The strongest person he had ever known. But for her, this would be personal. It would hurt.

 

He wished he was there with her, wherever she was.

 

…

 

Everyone in the sector heard Shepard’s conversation with General Corinthus after she’d gotten the comms back up. For Garrus, it was a siren call. He made it back to camp in record time. He had to admit that he planned his approach, wanting to surprise her. It worked. She looked shocked, delighted, even, to see him. She stepped forward like she was going to hug him, right there in the middle of camp. But she thought better of it and took his hand instead. He wrapped his other hand around them both, reassuring himself. She was there, unharmed. Alive.

 

He joined her, of course, when she returned to the Normandy with the newly-minted Primarch Victus. Most of the turians thought he wished to be of use to the primarch. In truth, he hoped more to be of use to _her._

 

He settled in back at his old post, fixing the mess the Alliance retrofit had created in the main battery. But as he waited for her to come see him, he got more and more nervous. Liara had told him, during their brief reunion, about the Mars archives and how Shepard had shown up inexplicably with Alenko in tow.

 

_How much time did they spend together on Earth?_ he wondered. _Did he apologize? Did they make up before he was injured?_

 

He managed to work himself up into a state of complete insecurity before Shepard finally arrived. He was sure she was going to tell him it was over, that she’d gone back to Alenko. That she’d found what she needed, where her future would lie.

 

“So…” he said, heart racing as he stared at her. “Is this the part where we shake hands?” As he babbled on, her brow began to wrinkle into a frown. His heart sank as he trailed off.

 

“I missed you, Garrus,” she said finally. “I thought of you the whole time I was locked up. But if you don’t want to continue things, I understand.”

 

Hope sparked inside him. “That’s not what I meant at all,” he said. “I want this, whatever you’re willing to give me. I just thought…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I heard from Liara that Kaidan left Earth with you.”

 

Shepard sighed. “Let me ease your mind,” she said, and took one of his hands in hers. “Kaidan never came to see me on Earth, though they likely would have allowed it had he asked. I first saw him the day the reapers attacked. We spent the entire Mars mission fighting. He still doesn’t trust that I’ve left Cerberus. I hate that we left things on such bad terms,” she said, her eyes turning sad. “I’ll be visiting him in the hospital as soon as possible to clear the air. But he’s not the one I missed. He’s not the one I wanted to see when I was trapped there.” Her eyes met his, looking hopeful. “I want this with you, Garrus. I want to stay with you as long as we can be happy together. I want to see where this goes.”

 

A joy filled Garrus that he could barely contain. He just had one more concern to air. “But I can’t give you children,” he said. “Not like you wanted.”

 

She gave him a radiant smile. “Love doesn’t follow logic,” she said with a small shrug. “You’re the only one I want. I love you.”

 

“Spirits,” he said with feeling. “And I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.” At that he could wait no longer to take her in his arms. He kissed her to the best of his ability, anatomy notwithstanding.

 

After a frenzied round of lovemaking and a handful of happy tears from Shepard, she invited him up to the captain’s cabin. Not just for the night, she said. Permanently.

 

…

 

The war extracted a heavy toll from Shepard. The loss of Mordin was difficult to stomach. Garrus found himself comforting her like he had after Virmire. He took her burdens where he could, and noticed others on the ship doing the same. They all cared for her in their own ways.

 

No matter what else was going on, Shepard returned that care in full. She knew the status of everyone’s family, tried her best to cheer the crew and keep morale up. Even in the midst of a war, Shepard was still Shepard.

 

When the Normandy made stops on the Citadel, Garrus took her on small dates. Even if it was just a quick drink or a walk around the Presidium, he could see how these little breaks were appreciated.

 

After Cerberus attacked the Citadel and their assassin killed Thane, Garrus could see this wasn’t enough. She needed more to live for than half-hour breaks in between the war. Well, he was sure of his own desires. He only had to find out what hers were.

 

He planned one more date, more elaborate than the rest.

 

…

 

“Are you ready to be a one-turian kind of woman?” he asked, and she tilted her head curiously.

 

“Garrus?” she asked, somehow understanding there was more to this question.

 

Garrus took a fortifying breath. “Shepard… I love you. I have for a long time,” he said around the lump in his throat. “This war is hell. But every moment I have with you is heaven. I want more moments like this. I want them for the rest of our lives, however long that might be.”

 

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “The only thing that made leaving Earth bearable was knowing you were out there somewhere,” she said softly.

 

Garrus took her hand. “Jane Shepard, will you marry me?”

 

“Yes,” she said, tears falling despite her beaming smile.

 

He took her in his arms and dipped her in a passionate kiss. He smirked at her dazed expression when he lifted her back to her feet. Then her eyes went wide when he pulled a small box from a compartment in his armor.

 

“Did you watch vids?” she asked when he opened the box to reveal a ring. Her eyes were dancing with joy and laughter.

 

Garrus shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “Well, getting down on one knee isn’t exactly an easy position for turians, but I hoped this would be a good nod to human culture.”

 

She smiled up at him. “It’s beautiful! Will you put it on me?” she asked, holding out her hand.

 

Garrus fumbled a bit with the ring, far more delicate than any turian jewelry, but he managed to slide it on her finger.

 

“It fits perfectly!” she said, astonished.

 

Garrus let out a chuckle. “I measured your finger with my omni-tool while you were asleep.”

 

Her eyes softened. “You’ve been planning this for a while?”

 

“A little while,” he said, unwilling to admit that he’d first gotten the idea shortly after rejoining the Normandy crew.

 

“I love you,” she said, gazing up into his eyes.

 

“And I love you,” he replied and pressed his forehead gently to hers.

 

They tried to be circumspect, but their joy was apparent to the Normandy crew when they finally returned to the ship. Shepard rolled her eyes at the crew trying to throw them an engagement party, but Garrus only encouraged them. He could see that her happiness was only increased by sharing it with their friends.

 

…

 

Shepard was the one who proposed eloping before they met the fleet at Cronos Station. “We don’t know what tomorrow will bring,” she said, looking nervous. “But I’d like to face it as your wife.”

 

Garrus, nearly rendered speechless, immediately agreed and began looking up Citadel wedding venues. Shepard admitted doing some research herself, and tentatively suggested the idea of marrying in a turian spirit garden. Garrus knew just the place. He remembered it from his C-Sec days as one of the only same-day venues that didn’t seem absurdly tacky, like the asari-run Temple of Love or the humans’ Little White Citadel Chapel.

 

When they docked, they did some quick shopping for rings and proper clothes—Shepard wanted to marry in a dress—and quickly changed before heading to the spirit garden.

 

Garrus rarely indulged in the belief of spirits. He was generally proper in his observance of the old rites and customs, but he had little interest in the metaphysical or spiritual. But standing in the garden, across from his beloved, he felt something small and still overtake him. Nothing in his life had felt so sacred as speaking the vows passed down through generations to his own bride.

 

There were a few human customs sprinkled into the ceremony—the exchange of rings, the sealing of their union with a kiss. But overall, it was the same traditional ceremony he’d always expected to have one day. The only thing he hadn’t foreseen was the identity of his bride. He was oddly grateful that she’d given him this experience, this connection to his history. He hadn’t realized this was something he’d wanted, not until she gave it to him. If possible, he loved her more than ever.

 

At the close of the ceremony, they ate dinner at a romantic restaurant, and then went quietly back to the Normandy for a wedding night in the captain’s quarters.

 

Waiting for them on the coffee table was a bottle of dual-chiralty champagne in an ice bucket, two glasses, and a note. After reading the note, Shepard smiled and handed it to Garrus. Liara had given them her congratulations and promise of secrecy as long as they desired it. He huffed a laugh at her knowing so quickly—there was no keeping secrets from the Shadow Broker.

 

They drank very little of the champagne that night, choosing to celebrate their union in other ways. They made love in the dim light of the fish tank, expressing their feelings in word and deed. There was one last component to the turian ceremony, one last private step. At the height of their passion, they marked each other with a bite at the base of the neck, a permanent show of their love.

 

“Not everyone does bond marks these days,” Garrus had told her earlier. “Only love matches do it, and only then if they’re very traditional… or very rebellious.” He had smirked at her then.

 

Shepard hadn’t taken the bait. “I want to belong to you in every way,” she’d said very sincerely. “I want to wear your mark.”

 

He’d expressed himself the only way he could with such ample provocation.

 

After their first round of lovemaking—and after Garrus had tended to the bite mark on her shoulder and shrugged off any pain in his own—Shepard went to the mirror in the bathroom to admire it.

 

Garrus winced at the redness around the bite, but Shepard wasn’t bothered.

 

“They can’t take this away from us,” she said. “We will always belong to each other.”

 

…

 

It was late morning when Garrus rose. The rumble of the ship suggested they were already on their way to the rendezvous point. He found Shepard at her desk, one of his shirts tossed haphazardly over her head.

 

“What are you up to?” he asked, unbothered by his own nakedness as he came to stand behind her.

 

“Making sure all of our paperwork gets filed,” she said. “Getting all the legalities out of the way. Now you’re officially listed as my spouse by the Alliance, and I hope you don’t mind that I sent in the equivalent paperwork for the Hierarchy.” She looked up at him.

 

“Of course I don’t mind,” he said warmly. “I want everyone to know you’re my wife.”

 

This led to the next round of lovemaking, and neither Shepard or Garrus made it down for breakfast.

 

…

 

Cronos Station pierced their bubble of joy as Shepard faced the reality of her own resurrection.

 

“I’m still me,” she said, trying to sound confident. “I doubt I’d have been able to turn against Cerberus otherwise. I… don’t remember anything.” She continued more slowly, with less certainty. “Maybe they fixed me. Or maybe I’m just a high-tech VI that thinks it’s Commander Shepard. But I don’t know, I…”

 

Garrus interrupted. “You’re you. Your heart is the same as it’s always been.” He looked her in the eye. “You are the one thing in the galaxy I’m sure of.”

 

She gave him a tremulous smile, squeezing his hand before moving to where EDI waited for them.

 

Further revelations followed. About EDI, about the assassin who’d been causing them trouble since the Citadel coup. But none was worse than hearing the truth about the Catalyst.

 

There was one battle left, all their eggs in one basket. The Crucible was their only hope now, and they’d have to fight through the heaviest incursion of reaper forces to use it.

 

For once, Garrus prayed.

 

…

 

Their landing on Earth had been harrowing. London was rubble. The humans were struggling to hold. But all had hope that they wouldn’t have to for much longer. Garrus waited when Shepard said separate goodbyes to her team. When it was his turn, all he could do was give her as much as he could to live for. A home, a future…

 

“Maybe see what a human-turian baby looks like?” he said slyly, hoping to get a laugh.

 

She let out a tired chuckle. “Biology might not cooperate,” she said. “Adoption might be the better option.”

 

“Then I’ll adopt a whole shipload with you, Shepard,” he said impulsively, full of his love for her.

 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, her eyes filled with tears that she wouldn’t shed here. “Garrus, thank you. For loving me. For marrying me. It was the best decision of my life. I’ve never been happier.”

 

They didn’t make any promises to each other—they’d done that already, in the spirit garden. But Garrus privately vowed to do anything he could to make sure Shepard survived this war, even if he didn’t.

 

…

 

Things didn’t go as planned.

 

Garrus had been injured, forced aboard the Normandy to be seen by the doctor as Shepard went on alone. He railed against the confinement, demanding to be taken back. It only got worse when he heard her feeble voice on the comm, talking to Admiral Hackett. There was no doubt she was gravely injured.

 

“We have to go back for her,” he cried, trying to get down off the med bay cot. “We have to help her!”

 

“You can’t do anything for her now!” Tali yelled tearfully, pushing him back down so that Chakwas could tend to him. “She wanted you safe!”

 

“I can’t leave here there alone!” he growled back, growing increasingly insensible to reason. “She’s my wife!”

 

Tali and Chakwas both startled at that, but Garrus seemed to sag, as if the fight had gone out of him.

 

“Oh, Garrus.” Tali helped him to lay back down. “I’m so sorry.”

 

She—and the rest of the crew—would get the story out of him at some point. But not now.

 

He turned his head away.

 

…

 

When the Normandy had crash landed with no comms and no way of leaving the planet, Garrus had become single-minded about repairing the ship. He urged everyone into action. He wouldn’t rest until he got back to Shepard.

 

He couldn’t bear to think of her as dead, so he didn’t. He wouldn’t consider that possibility until he had no other choice but to face it. Anyone who tried to tell him otherwise got an icy glare and orders to get back to work. He wasn’t the ranking officer on the ship, but as Shepard’s honorary second in command, his words were given weight.

 

They continued in this way for several weeks before they managed to communicate with Earth. They gave the Alliance their location so that help could reach them and were given a status update on the state of the galaxy. But there was only one thing Garrus cared about. Luckily, the lieutenant reporting to them beat him to the punch.

 

“Is Garrus Vakarian present?” the young soldier asked. Garrus stepped forward and answered in the affirmative. “I have news on your wife, sir. Would you like to clear the room?”

 

Garrus looked at Shepard’s crew surrounding him. “No,” he said. “This is her family.” Shepard’s crew moved forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. An arm around him. A hand in his. They wouldn’t leave him to face this alone.

 

“Very well, sir.” The moment’s pause felt like an eternity. “Commander Shepard is in a stable but serious condition in a hospital in Oslo, Norway.”

 

Garrus sagged in relief. He felt Liara squeeze his hand, heard Tali’s quiet sob. Others were crying and hugging around him.

 

“Is she awake and aware?” he asked. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her.

 

“No, sir,” the lieutenant said. “She has yet to wake. The doctors will likely keep her in an induced coma for some time. She has a long road to recovery. Her doctors can discuss it with you in detail once you reach Earth. The Normandy has been permitted to go to Oslo after your initial debrief in London.”

 

Someone else took over for Garrus at that point. His mind could focus on only one thing—Shepard was alive.

 

…

 

It took time to return to Earth. Even with aid, the Normandy’s repairs weren’t immediate. Still more concerning was the mass relay, deactivated like the others. At least this one wasn’t further damaged—there were reports around the galaxy that some relays appeared to be completely destroyed. Travel around the galaxy was crippled, at least for a time.

 

The debrief in London was torture. Every minute was one he could have been by his wife’s side. Finally they were released to go to Oslo, to Shepard. He approached her bed with trepidation. He’d never seen her so small, so frail. She was bruised and scarred, her lovely hair shorn away. Her bondmark peeked out the neckline of her hospital gown, along with a chain around her neck. Garrus carefully lifted it to find her dog tags and wedding rings on it. He lay it carefully back on her chest and pressed his hand atop them, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing and listening to the machine beat with her heart.

 

He met with the doctors, heard their diagnosis and treatment plans. She was lucky, they told him, to still have all her limbs. Had she been found a day or two later—had she not had such advanced cybernetics—she would be an amputee if not dead. Even so, it would be weeks before they tried to wake her and months before she would walk again.

 

He waited, rarely leaving her side, until they weaned her off the drugs that kept her asleep and let her wake naturally. He answered messages on a datapad until slight movements alerted him. He took her less injured hand in his.

 

“Shepard, sweetie, I’m here,” he said. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

 

She did so slowly, blinking against the brightness of the light. He dropped his datapad and used his free hand to shade her. Her confused, wandering eyes met his and were calmed.

 

Garrus smiled. “Hello, beautiful.”

 

…

 

Shepard had talked years ago about taking a ground posting in order to marry and raise children, though she hadn’t imagined being medically discharged to do so. Shepard accepted the Alliance’s offer to remain on Earth and become a lecturer at the ICT Villa where soldiers rose up through the ranks to become N7s like herself. Garrus was called upon by the Hierarchy to manage logistics for turians who chose to remain on Earth due to the difficulty in travel across the galaxy. He and Shepard purchased a big, old house for next to nothing, and Garrus took great pleasure in modernizing it and making repairs, as his Hierarchy job allowed him little opportunity to work with his hands.

 

When Shepard was ready and able, she and Garrus began adopting the “shipload” of children he’d promised her. They started with turians (to appease Garrus’s father), a set of twins orphaned by the war. They continued to adopt several children of other races, and even had two human babies via IVF.

 

Garrus began to learn a different rhythm, one as foreign as the Normandy’s had once been familiar. One of bathtime and playtime and feedings, one of bedtime stories and morning cuddles. And it was more precious to him than he could have imagined.

 

Every two weeks, like clockwork, Shepard hired a couple of babysitters to watch over their brood while they went on a date. But Shepard wasn’t looking for love anymore. She had found everything she was looking for.

 

…

 

 


End file.
